Toad in a Hole
by Chriss Corkscrew
Summary: Draco Malfoy runs from the Death Eaters. Who can he trust to get him onto the Hogwarts Express?


Title:  Toad in a hole

Author:  Chriss Corkscrew

Copyright:  2002-05-26

Disclaimer:  J K Rowling owns all of this, lucky girl!  And I don't.

Draco winced as his fathers voice echoed into his room

"Draco, come along now.  We don't want to keep him waiting."

"Coming father," he called back, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.  He pulled the dark robe round his shoulders.  It felt like a shroud.  "Draco Malfoy, Death Eater," he tried out, his voice hollow.  "Draco Malfoy, Slithery Slytherin, Death Eater, Dark Wizard.  No soul, no life, no free will."

"Draco!  This is one person you cannot be late for!"  His father called again, louder, angrier.  "Do I have to come in there?"

"I'm coming!"  Draco cried out again, shaking at the thought.  He knew his father too well.  He used any excuse to bully and beat his son, to take out his frustration at being nothing more than the Dark Lords lapdog on Draco's slight body.  He pulled up the hood and looked around at his room, full of the latest gizmos and Quidditch paraphernalia.  He saw his Hogwarts trunk, packed and ready for the start of next weeks autumn term for the last time as a free born wizard.  Then, like a condemned man, he left.

*     *     *

"It warms my heart," Voldemort smiled, "If I had a heart that is.  That so many young people came here tonight to join my cause."  The Death Eaters had met up by Port key.  They stood on a desolate moor, bathed in the red light brought by a crackling fire.  Far off in the distance Draco could see the pinpricks of light from a village, real people, good people that he had no hope of ever knowing.  With their parents, several Hogwarts students stood, all from Slytherin.  Other children were present too, strong, black-browed Durmstrang pupils and the lighter, more cunning-looking Beauxbatons students, all in their robes and ready to give their service.  "Your parents flocked to my banner, returned to the side of power, but it is through the children that the future may be set.  That idiot, Dumbledore, sets too much of his faith in the sanctity of his precious school walls.  These children can breach them, at Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.  And then to the other schools, Salem, Kalgoorlie, Faizabad, León, Palapye and all the rest.  We will rise up and seize the future and tonight, tonight is the first step."  Voldemort drew himself up and raised his wand, "You children step forward.  Pledge yourselves to the Death Eaters, and then you may stand by my side."

Draco suddenly felt cold.  Drawing back, he wanted to press himself to his fathers side, to feel warm and safe, but he knew that his father was a Death Eater, that he was bitter and unrelenting as stone.  He could find no comfort there.  

The first of the children went forward.  "I pledge myself to you, my master Voldemort, and to your cause."

"Will you take my mark?"

"I will."  There was a green flash as Voldemort lifted his wand.  The child fell back, crying out with pain, and there it was, the Death Mark, eating its way into his flesh.  As easy as that, the child was Voldemort's.  Forever.  No person could save that child now; no one good or pure could ever trust him with that evil spite on his arm.  But even as Draco stood, transfixed with horror and pity for the child, he stood himself up, laughing and smiled as he took his place by Voldemort's side.

"Next."  Voldemort smiled again, "You."  He pointed to a Beauxbatons girl.  "You will pledge your loyalty to me."

As she went forward, Draco slipped back into the crowd.  He sought out his comrades, Crabbe and Goyle, but even as he found them, he knew they did not feel the doubt he did.  They watched the scene with enjoyment.  Stupidity and thuggery, that was their element, and they would accept the pledge without a second thought.  "Help me," he thought desperately as, behind him, he heard the stifled cry of pain as the girl was marked.  A part of him longed for Potter's immunity, for Weasley's bravery and Granger's intellect; they could find a way out of this nightmare.  "No," he thought bitterly, "How could they understand.  Their parent would die for them.  All I've ever known are parents who would die for Him.  Parents who would see me die for Him."  Another cry came and Draco knew he was running out of time.  Soon he would be taken.  "No!" he clenched his fists, "No more.  I am better than that; I cannot live for Them any more."  Then, with a furtive glance around him, he slipped away from the crowd.  Watching the spectacle with ghoulish attentiveness, no one saw him leave.

*     *     *

"Hell!"  He cursed as his robe caught in a prickly bush and ripped.  Draco was running towards the village in the distance.  He would be missed when his turn came to be marked, and then he would have no hope.  Voldemort would take him with one of the Unforgivable Curses.  No, he would order it, his father would do it, even enjoy it.  He ran for his life.

Where could he go?  His Slytherin friends would never hide him; most would betray him in a moment even if he could get to them.  Potter and Granger lived with Muggles and Weasley nowhere near, "Not that his Muggle-loving father would help me for a minute," he spat.  The only person who could protect him was Dumbledore.  If he could get onto the Hogwarts train next week, avoid Crabbe and Goyle and all the rest of them, he might have a chance.  It would mean never going home again, but then home was never that, he'd never belonged anywhere.  Behind him, the darkness was beginning to lift.  Morning was coming, he would be missed any minute.  "What the−?"  Suddenly the moor ended and Draco fell headlong onto the tarmac road.  He flung his hands out to save himself from . . . well, from the road, and nearly lost his wand.  Slick and black in the dull light, it looked like a snake.  "Slytherin," he laughed a sad laugh, "I guess there's no escap−."

All of a sudden there was a BANG!  A purple bus appeared out of nowhere and skidded to a halt a few feet away.

"The Knight Bus."  Draco gasped.

The conductor stuck his head out the door, "Are you coming then?"

"Yes!"  Draco ran to the door.  "Thank you."

"Where to then?" the conductor looked at him critically.

Draco didn't blame his suspicion.  He must look a sight, and in Dark Robes too.  "Um, I don't know, um," Draco thought quickly.  He couldn't get to Hogwarts on the bus and Diagon Alley would be the first place they looked.  Those Gryffindors would never believe him.  But there was one person.  Not a mud blood.  He'd understand, Draco could make him understand.  "Longbottom."  He said clearly.  "Take me to Neville Longbottom's place in Surrey."

"You're the guvner." Stan Shunpike said, "So . . . d'ya want 'ot chocolate?  It's extra."

*     *     *

Crash!  "Sorry, grandmother" Neville called as he surveyed the wreckage of his latest disaster.

"That better not be my good china."

"Er . . . no," Neville called back desperately, "Just something old".  Very old actually, an antique.  "I can fix it."  Neville picked up the pieces desperately.  "I'm sure there's a spell."

"You wish," came a haughty, familiar voice behind him.

Crash!  Another cup went flying.  "Malfoy?"  Draco was halfway through his window and clambering onto his floor, "What are you doing here?  Get out of my house!  Now!"

"Nothing would please me more.  I don't want to end up with boils just because you can't control your own wand.  But I don't have a lot of choice."

"What?"  Neville shook his head, "Just get out of here.  I'll . . . I'll call my Grandmother."

"No!"  Draco looked at him wide-eyed.  "You can't.  She'll send me back and they'll find me."

"What?  Who?"  Neville asked, perplexed enough to lower his wand.

"Them.  The Death Eate−"

"−Shut up about them!"  Neville cut him off.  "Never say that name!"

"I have to," Draco tried to keep his voice down.  "They're after me."

"You're Slytherin.  You're part of all that."

"Not anymore.  They tried to make me join but I wouldn't.  They're going to come after me, you idiot."

"I'm not an idiot!"

"You could have fooled me," Draco sneered, then, seeing the look on Neville's face he softened.  "Look.  I can't help being rude.  I've never even tried to be nice before."

"This is nice?"

"Yes Longbottom.  You won the House Cup in first year, you're great at Herbology, hell, you even took on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed once.  You're great!  Bloody marvellous!  Happy now?  How's that for nice?"

"Malfoy?"

"Look, you've got everything.  Proper friends who don't stab you in the back, a decent family.  You're pure blooded like me.  You know what it's like, the pressures to be like your parents.  But for me it's worse.  It's impossible, especially when your dad's a, a−" he choked over the words, "Death Eater."

"Oh no."  Neville looked like he was going to be sick.

"And now Crabbe is, and Goyle, and all of them.  Except me.  And if they find me . . ."

"The Unforgivable Curses."

"Without a doubt.  Neville," Draco looked at him for the first time with real sincerity, "I'm so sorry about your parents.  They were good people.  They said no.  Just like me."

"You really mean this?"  Neville could see the fear in Malfoy's eyes and knew, for the sake of his parents, that he couldn't say no to helping someone get away from death by that curse.

"Just hide me.  Get me to Dumbledore somehow.  I want to do what's right."

"Okay Draco, I'll help you, but," Neville smiled then surveyed the wreckage on his bedroom floor, "Do you know anything about antiques?"

*     *     *

"I am not letting you point that wand at me!"  Draco was firm.  "I don't care what spell it is.  You can't do it and I don't particularly want to spend the rest of my life with a beak."

"But if you were an owl I could just address a letter to Hogwarts and you could deliver it and they'd never know."

"No way Neville.  Voldemort is bound to be on the look out for something like that.  If I'm going to get to Hogwarts it'll have to be through the station barrier.  The Death Eaters wouldn't dare wait for me there, so all we'd have to do is fool Crabbe and Goyle and the others"

"But we've only got a couple of days left."  Neville thought hard.  "Maybe some kind of potion.  You could make it!" He hurriedly said as Draco looked at him with horror.  "I don't do potions."

"That's Snape's dream too!" Draco smiled, "I reckon he just sits there contemplating your graduation."

"Like he'd let me graduate from his class."  Neville looked serious for a moment, "I'm certain he's just waiting to poison me.  When everybody else isn't looking."

"Or maybe he'll just get you to drink one of your own potions."

Neville shuddered at the thought, "I'd probably dissolve!"

As they laughed together, Draco noticed how nice Neville was again, so much better than his Slytherin cronies.  "I'll tell you what," he struck a deal, "When we get back, I'll partner you in Potions if you get me through Herbology."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it'll be great.  My lot won't dare try to do anything to me if I'm partnering a Gryffindor, and your lot can't touch me if we're working together."

"They wouldn't."

Draco raised a cynical eyebrow.

"Okay, they would.  Nothing fatal, but they would."

"Yeah well, back to the immediate problem, Nev." Draco half-heartedly fed a few crumbs of biscuit to Trevor, Neville's toad, who was croaking nearby.  After an initial bout of hatred, he and Trevor had sunk into a grudging truce, with Draco eventually admitting that toads were pretty interesting pets really.  "Maybe−"

"Trevor!"  Neville shouted with glee.

"Yes.  Trevor." Draco shook his head.  "He Trevor.  Me Draco.  I thought we'd sorted that out days ago."

"No!"  Neville pounced on the toad and lifted him up, "That's how we can get you through the barrier.  He Trevor, You Trevor!"

The idea was so simple.  The spell was a classic, even popular in Muggle mythology.  Everybody knew that witches liked to turn people into frogs and toads were pretty much the same thing when it came to a spell.  Neville spent the next day collecting the ingredients; easily found plants and several more scarce varieties of magical plant that all grew in Neville's small but potent collection of plants.  The vital ingredient, toadflax, was purloined from a neighbouring witches allotment and they were ready to make the potion.

"Right." Draco took his part of the plan seriously, the potion was all down to him, "I'm now going to chop the leaves and you, Neville, are going to sit there quietly and not touch anything."

"Gotcha."

"Now I'm going to add one of my hairs to the potion and you, Neville, are going to sit there quietly and not touch anything."

"Right."

"And now I'm going to bring the potion to the boil and you, Neville−"

"Are going to sit here and not touch anything."  He repeated.  "Y'know Draco, I'm not a complete disaste−," he cut off as somehow he managed to knock over a vial of leech juice.

"Watch it!" Draco grabbed the cauldron and set it out the way as Neville carpet began turn green.  "You nearly spilled it in the cauldron!  Now, what are you?"

"A complete disaster."  He agreed

"And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to sit here and not touch anything." He grinned at Draco.  "Promise."

*     *     *

The day of September the first dawned clear and bright.  Neville was almost as pale as Draco as he lingered over getting ready.  Neither of them really wanted to test their plan, both were afraid it would fail.  "You want some breakfast?"  Neville asked Draco nervously, "I could bring something upstairs if you want."

"Couldn't eat."  Draco patted his lean stomach and tried to smile, "Saving myself up for a nice juicy fly later." 

As Neville left the room to eat breakfast, Draco groaned, the smile fading.  "What am I doing?"  He looked himself in the mirror.  Dressed in some of Neville's old clothes, baggy and scruffy, he looked like a normal kid, not like a Malfoy.  His hair wasn't slicked back any longer, Neville didn't even own gel, and looked healthy and wild as it fell naturally about his head.  Even his face had changed; living off of biscuits and purloined sausages for the best part of week without exercise had made him look plumper.  His cheeks were rosy and he smiled more; you could see a trace of a smile on his lips now, and a new warmth in his eyes.  He was happy.  For the first time he was a normal wizard; no family loyalty or supercilious pride.  He looked well on it, and he liked it.  He didn't want it to end, not so soon, not before he had gotten Neville a decent Potions grade and Snape a subsequent heart attack.  It was all too good now.  "This better work."  He told his reflection sadly, "It has to."

*     *     *

"Get a move on, Neville, why must you always be late?"

"Sorry grandmother, coming!"  He called back, opening his trunk frantically.  "Have you got him, Draco?  It's time."

"Here he is."  Draco had tracked Trevor down and carried him over to the trunk.

"Put him in here."  Neville opened the tin.  "A nice, moist box for a few hours.  You'll like that, won't you Trevor?"

"Neville!"  Draco laughed at him, "He's a toad."

"Yeah, MY toad.  I want him to be comfortable."

"Whatever."  Draco agreed and placed Trevor in the box.  "Now it's my turn."

Neville closed the tin and locked the trunk, then, pulling the potion out of its hiding place, he gave it to Draco.  "Just drink it right down.  If something goes wrong, don't explode."

"Very helpful, Nev!"  Draco grimaced and drank the potion.

Then, "Bloody hell!"  Neville swore as Draco disappeared under the heap of his robes.  "Brilliant!"  Out hopped a toad with, one might ascertain, the Machiavellian Malfoy glint in his eyes.  "Come on then," he picked up Draco and set off down the stairs.  "And if anyone asks, you're Trevor and you don't even know what a Malfoy is!"

*     *     *

Neville swallowed as they reached Kings Cross Station.  "This is it," he whispered to the toad in his hand.  "Here we go."  Neville's grandmother strode ahead, having commandeered a Porter to push the luggage onto the platform.  Neville let her get in front and looked around him carefully.  He couldn't tell who might be a Death Eater out of the hundreds of Muggles pushing and jostling along, but he knew that they were out there, waiting for Draco.

"Well look who it isn't."  Neville froze and spun around.  There was Crabbe and Goyle, leering and larger than life.  He was dead.  "Little Neville Longbottom and his stupid toad.  Pathetic, innit?"  Goyle crowed.

"Yeah," his constant companion, Crabbe joined in, "Don't know why you bothered to come back this year.  We're in charge now."

"They made you headmaster did they?" Neville was shocked at his own bravery.

"Naw.  But wiv Malfoy gone, we'll be runnin' things, and the first thing we're going to do−"

"I can't believe I used to be friends with you," Draco thought with disbelief.

"−Is flatten that stupid toad and flatten you wiv it!"

"No I−" Neville held Draco to him, "You're not going to touch him."

"Oh yeah?"  Goyle sniggered, "You and whose army?"

"How about mine?"  Suddenly Harry was there, and next to him stood the Weasley's; Ron, George and Fred.  Even Ginny looked slightly menacing (as since he asked her to the Ball the year before, she had rather counted Neville as her property).

"Harry!"  Neville cried out in relief, It'd be okay now.  

Crabbe and Goyle, seeing how much taller the twins had grown over the summer, sloped off sulkily towards the platform.  They could get Neville later and anyway, they had a job to do for their Master.  Malfoy still had to be found.

"Are you okay, Neville?" Harry checked.

"Fine."  He smiled, "You got here just in time."

"Yes.  Thanks Potter," Draco thought hard and hoped that Harry would get the message.  "I owe you one."

"Are we going then?  Or are we waiting to take on more of your enemies?" Ron asked in his world-weary way.  

"No." Neville nodded hard.  "We're going."

With a sigh of relief, Neville saw the barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters just ahead but then paused.  Leaning against the side of the barrier with an 'oh-so-casual' stance, was clearly Lucius Malfoy.  He looked like a grown-up version of Draco, only with a darkness to his eyes.  Next to him, like potatoes on a shelf, stood the lumpen and menacing Crabbe and Goyle.  "Not again." Neville groaned.

"It's alright," Ginny smiled at him.  "We're here too."

"Right."  Neville tried to look brave and then, under his breath, "Like that's really going to help when he performs the Unforgivable Curse on all of us."

"What was that?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing."

As they drew closer to the barrier, he could hear Crabbe and Goyle talking to the senior Malfoy.  "What about the Potter boy?" Malfoy asked, "Could he have gone there?"

"Naw," Crabbe shook his head, "There's a protection spell on the Muggles who look after him.  He couldn't go there."

"The girl?"

"Mud blood."

"Well, he didn't go to the Weasley's.  The Ministry would be crawling all over this place if he had.  What about that boy?"

Neville could feel his ears going pink as he was scrutinised by Malfoy.

"Longbottom?  Ha!  He's practically a Squib.  Look at him!" Goyle snorted, "Him and that stupid toad.  Do ya reckon he could do anything?"

"Well I'll take your word for it," Lucius Malfoy smirked as the group passed him, not even looking at the toad in Neville's sweating hands, and, with a glorious whoosh they went through the barrier and onto that other platform.

"Cheek!" George shouted, "Did you hear that berk?  'Practically a Squib'," he mimicked, "Honestly.  Everyone knows Neville's lethal with a wand, even when he's trying not to be?"

"Yeah" Neville agreed, finally feeling a sense of safety, now that they were passed the worst.

"Harry!  Ron!  Everyone!"  Hermione hurried over to them, "I've been waiting for you for simply ages!"

"Gosh!"  Ron imitated her enthusiasm, "Really?  Gosh!  How spiffing!"

"Ron!" She nagged, "Anyway, have you heard about Malfoy?"

"Oh yes Hermione," Ron answered the question she hadn't bothered to ask, "Had a lovely holiday.  And you?"

"Don't be so obnoxious," she reprimanded and then continued, her enthusiasm undampened, "No really!  Malfoy's gone missing.  A week ago.  Everybody's up in arms about it.  The Slytherin's have all gone positively potty!"

"I'll just bet," Draco thought grimly, still held in Neville's grip, "They don't want their little secret to come out."

"Well that explains Crabbe and Doyle.  And Malfoy's dad out there."  Fred tutted at the memory.

"But it doesn't explain where Malfoy went," Harry said quietly.  "Or what they've done to him."

*     *     *

The journey to Hogwarts went uneventfully.  The whole of the train was abuzz about Draco's disappearance, which kept things relatively subdued.  Although there was a nasty moment when Ron tried to turn 'Trevor' yellow with that spell he never could get to work.  Indeed it was only Neville's quick-thinking kept Draco from getting a permanent case of jaundice.  

It was a relief though, when they finally pulled up at the Hogwarts Station and made their way to the safety of the school.

"Neville, you look positively green" Hermione told him, as he saw, with a sinking heart, Crabbe and Goyle walking past on their way to the school. 

"I'm fine" Neville insisted, clutching Draco to him, certain that he would never make it to Dumbledore without having a heart attack, but then there they were, the school gates.  Neville had to restrain himself from running up them and heaved a huge sigh of relief when finally, he was inside the school.

"Will you stop puffing all over me, Mr Longbottom," Professor McGonagall insisted as she surveyed the returning students.

He took a deep breath.  This was it.  "Please take me to Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall.  Now please!" Neville asked firmly.

"I beg your pardon?" She was scandalized.  "What did you say?"

"I said that I need to see Professor Dumbledore.  Immediately!"  He practically shouted this time, so tired of his responsibility.  A gasp came from the assembled students.

"He's gone batty" Harry whispered to Ron.

"D'ya think she'll eat him for it?" Ron said louder, less tactfully.

"Thank you Mr Weasley.  That'll be quite enough."  McGonagall told him off, sternly. "I take it this is important, Mr Longbottom?"

"Very."

"Very well then."  She called out to the students.  "File into the hall please!  I will be back in just a moment."  Then she turned to Neville, "Come with me then."

*     *     *

"Mr Neville Longbottom, eh?"  Dumbledore inspected the student with a smile on his face.  "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Neville stood in front of the headmaster, shaking with fear.  "That sir," he said and plopped the toad onto Dumbledore's desk.

"Neville!" McGonagall was scandalised.  "Take that amphibian off the headmaster's desk."

"It's Draco!" Neville revealed, ending the secrecy.  "That toad there is Draco Malfoy!  It was the only way we could get him here.  It's Draco!  We turned him into a toad!"

"We?" Dumbledore stared.

"Me and Draco.  I got the plants and he did the potion."

"Oh my lord!" McGonagall sounded faint.  "What you students get up to."

"Sorry professor."

"Now then." Dumbledore eye-balled the toad, "Young Draco, that can't be very comfortable.  We'll turn you back and you can tell me exactly what has been going on."  He drew out his wand and flicked it at Malfoy "Fidus Visio!"

Then there he was.  Draco crouched there.  On the desk, wide-eyed and naked.

"Oh my giddy aunt!" McGonagall staggered back, "It's too much!  And on the first day of school."

"Oh yes," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "It only gets worse from this point!  Now Professor, if you would be so kind as to fetch some clothes for Mr Malfoy here, we need to have a little talk."

*     *     *

"And that is everything?" Dumbledore asked Draco gently.

"Yes.  Everything I can remember."  Draco tugged at his new robes, "But it isn't enough, is it?"

"I am afraid it isn't.  We have no proof."

"But the Death Mark!"

"It will be hidden on its hosts.  Voldemort will be certain of that."

"So I've achieved nothing."  Draco slumped back.  "I've achieved nothing and lost everything."

"Not at all." Dumbledore smiled.  "You have embraced the light.  You have discovered a strength in you that you never knew was there.  We know who has fallen and we can be watchful for their evil.  We have the means to fight them now.  Thanks to you and to Neville."

"I'm glad I did it," Draco admitted, "But I don't know how I'll survive Voldemort's wrath in the summer holidays, let along a year in Slytherin."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that." Voldemort stood up and guided Malfoy and Neville to the door.  "We'll take one thing at a time and start," his eyes twinkled, "With this years Sorting."

As they made their way down to the hall, the Sorting was just coming to an end.  With a "Young, Marion . . . RAVENCLAW!"  McGonagall had just finished.

Dumbledore strode forward and there was a gasp as the students in the hall turned and saw Neville and Draco hot on his heels.  Then, leaving the pair at the foot of the high table, Dumbledore turned to face the rows of curious children.  

"Now Professor McGonagall," he called to the head of Gryffindor house who was just taking the Sorting hat down.  "Don't do anything hasty, the Sorting might not be finished yet."  As whispers broke out in the hall, the more furious coming from the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, Dumbledore put out his hands to get them to quieten down.  "I understand that Mr Malfoy's disappearance has been something of a talking point.  Well, he is back."  The sullen mistrust emanating from the Slytherin table was almost palpable, "Mr Malfoy has faced an ordeal this summer.  He has confronted Voldemort."  There was a gasp.  "And survived.  He has faced his greatest challenge, that of survival, and risen to the occasion.  I award his house one hundred points!"  

Again there was a gasp, but it didn't come from the Slytherin table.  Horrified as so many of them were, they did not know whether to cheer or not.  "And Mr Longbottom.  For courageously protecting Mr Malfoy.  For reaching out his hand in friendship to an old enemy, I award Gryffindor fifty points!"

There was a loud cheer as the Gryffindor table went mad.  Despite the oddness of Neville's actions, helping a Malfoy and all, fifty points was fifty points and Gryffindor knew they could win the cup this year.

"Settle down.  Settle down!" Dumbledore smiled again.  "Now I think it rather likely that Mr Malfoy's character may no longer suit his former house.  It is unheard of, but I believe that Mr Malfoy must be Sorted again to take account of his experiences this summer.  I call Draco Malfoy to be Sorted."

With a sidelong look of terror at Neville, Draco stood up on the platform and had the Sorting Hat placed on his brow.  It had been so quick to place him that first year, but now it pondered.  

"Hmm, there's something different when I peer

As Neville's knocked some sense in here

You're still so sly and quick to be sure

But better make it GRYFFINDOR!" 

There was a stunned silence.  As Draco peered out from under the hat, only Neville's face was happy.  His former Slytherin colleagues were looking furious and he was dreading the Gryffindors reaction.  He took the hat off and climbed off the stage, his heart beating loudly in his ears, deafening through the quiet.

Then it came; a single pair of hands clapping.  Draco looked up and it was Harry.  "Well done Draco!"  He called out, sincerity obvious in his voice.  "I've faced Voldemort and barely survived.  And Cedric did and he didn't.  If you could, well, I guess you're welcome here."

Ron, his smile more like a grimace, jumped up and added, "Getting onto the train without anyone even seeing you.  I guess that's bloody brilliant!"

"And!" As one, the twins leapt up and shouted gleefully together, "That means we've got a hundred and fifty points and we haven't even had dinner yet!"

The table erupted with cheers and Draco smiled.  Then, with Neville at his side, he walked over to his new table, his ears ringing at the triumphant celebration, "Bloody brilliant!" he echoed under his breath.


End file.
